


The Spiritual

by lysiabeth



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Afterlife, Anyways... what the hell was hic right?, Fix-It, M/M, Roy-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 13:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16176005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysiabeth/pseuds/lysiabeth
Summary: Lian still has her hand in his. It’s tiny, and soft, and a little bit clammy. Roy holds tighter, and lets her pull him along.





	The Spiritual

He’s warm when he wakes up. Disoriented, but warm.

Roy runs hesitant fingers up his chest where he knows a bullet hole should be but finds nothing, uniform still in tact, heart still beating, echo of the gun already fading so it’s more of an imaginary sound than memory.

Something moves behind him, shapes in this place swimming in and out of focus as he scours his eyes over them until he comes to the source of the disturbance.

A little girl, dressed in green, pigtails uneven. She’s missing her front tooth - Roy can remember how excited she’d been at the tooth fairy coming to visit again. His little girl, he remembers. She holds out her hand to him.

“Come on, daddy. Or we’ll be late for our tea party.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He misses Wally. Had missed Wally, for a while. It had been a shock bumping into him, of all people, at the sanctuary. Roy thinks he can remember how Wally held on a little too tight as they embraced, how the bags on his eyes were a little too deep and too dark for them to mean anything but a bone deep tired the speedster was feeling.

But he’d smiled all the same. Joked and flicked at Roy’s bicep and dragged him into the complex, babbling on about one thing or another Roy can’t actually remember - he was just glad to have a familiar voice by his side again.

He remembers they were together when it happened. Roy pushing himself in front of Wally to take the brunt of the bullets but the two of them slumping to the ground anyways. He thinks Wally passed out before him but he can’t be sure, the only thing he can be sure of is the phantom feeling of Wally’s too-long hair brushing his cheek as Roy was in too much pain and too weak to drag himself after their attacker.

Lian still has her hand in his. It’s tiny, and soft, and a little bit clammy. Roy holds tighter, and lets her pull him along.

  
  
  
  
  


They’re sitting amongst a waiting room of people, some new mother dozing off as her baby sucks on a pacifier, the dad running his hands through his hair as he drains the dregs of a styrofoam cup.

Lians legs are swinging against the chair, still too short to reach the ground, and Roy holds his hands in his lap.

“He’ll be here soon. I think we’re a bit early.” She says, eyes flicking up from the picture book she’d grabbed from the derelict toy basket in the corner when they’d first entered, and Roy’s throat tightens.

The hospital looks familiar but he can’t place it, annoyed that the name is on the tip of his tongue but he can’t speak it.

An alarm goes off and the father in front of them shoots a scathing look towards the desk, then back to his sleeping partner and child. There’s a flurry of movement by the doors and Lian stands, closing the book, and makes a move towards the door. Roy has no choice but to follow, curious and nervous all in one, and his heart drops when he sees the figure on the stretcher being carried in.

“Gunshot wound to the head, he needs a CT scan and blood transfusion stat.” Someone yells, reaching through Roy place a stethoscope on Dick’s chest.

“Heartbeat weak but steady, We don’t have much time to work with.” The emergency doctor says, and Roy reaches out to Dick’s hand and feels sick when he can catch it for a moment. Lian is watching with sad wide eyes, her hand coming up to link with Roy’s, holding onto his fingers tight.

He’s not sure if he’ll forget the blood, matted in Dick’s thick black hair, and dripping down the front of the bat signal on his outfit. It makes his stomach churn - another old friend, lost, and nothing he could do to save him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You’re sad, daddy. Why?” Lian says, some time later though Roy isn’t sure how long later, and he looks at her with a fake smile and thinks he can pull it off until her small hand traces down his cheek and scratches at some stubble he’d missed when he’d shaved the day before.

He draws in a shaky breath and brings her hand to his lips to give it a tender kiss, scared his voice will crack if he tries to answer her.

He’s with her again, now. That’s all that matters. His little girl who he couldn’t protect now here to save him. A sick turn of events, but all Roy has had these past few years are small silver linings in dark clouds threatening to swallow him up, so he’ll take it.

She looks the same as the day she’d died but different somehow in ways he can’t really describe. Taller, maybe, but still only comes up to his hip. Hair longer but when he twists a strand of it in her ponytail through his fingers it still feels the same.

“It will be okay, daddy. Trust me.” She says, when he still hasn’t said anything, and she turns back to the chalk on the path of their old neighbourhood to continue drawing the hopscotch she used to love so much, and Roy knows better than to trust the word of an eight year old but it’s all he has going for himself right now, so he does.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He’s at a funeral.

His own funeral.

Ollie is there, and Dinah. Donna has made it back from space and even Kory is there, her hand wrapped around Dick’s, who is sitting with a big bandage wrapped around his head and two black eyes but alive.

There’s seats where others are missing, though. The whole affair is somber and far bigger than what Roy ever thought he would deserve, and when Ollie gets up to speak he can’t stop the tears that threaten to well up in the corner of his eyes.

“Grandad looks different.” Lian says. Her hair is down today and she’s dressed for the occasion, like she’s done this before, like an eight year old even knows what’s going on, and Roy nods.

“It’s been a while since you last saw him.” He reminds her, voice thick with the lump in his throat, and Lian nods. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something but her attention is caught by a monarch butterfly that’s dancing around the stained-glass windows at the top of the chapel, eyes lighting up as she follows it, and Roy notes how Dinah’s grip on Ollie appears to be the only thing keeping him up as Roy - or his casket, at least - is carried out.

He wonders where Jason is.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He’s surprised at the next person Lian drags him to see, on her tiki tour to the afterlife.

Connor is sat, slumped over, drooling on Kyle Rayner’s shoulder, hair a mess and half undressed from his kit and looking more like an adult than the scrawny fifteen year old Roy remembers.

Rayner goes to shake him awake, gentle but firm, and Connor huffs in his sleep before blinking his eyes open.

It feels like he’s looking right at Roy as he comes to, who’s sat himself on the coffee table directly opposite him, but the moment passes because Rayner jolts him as a phone rings in the distance.

“Shit, it’s Hal. I gotta fly.” Kyle says, chucking on a hoodie that has been dumped on the table right next to Roy, and as Kyle reaches to grab it he brushes where Roy’s thigh would have been. Connor is still waking up, his eyes flicking to follow Kyle’s movement, and Roy jumps as Lian comes up behind him and places her hand on his shoulder.

She has cat hair on her from God knows where, and her frizzy hair has been somewhat tamed by a sparkly butterfly headband she’s scraped it back into.

“Say, ‘Goodbye, Connor’.” Lian says, just like how Roy had told her to that morning they left for school, and Roy stands up and places his hand just so above Connor’s head so he mimics ruffling his hair.

“Goodbye, Connor.” Roy says, and misses Connor’s smirk that he shoots right where Lian is standing.

  
  
  
  
  
  


There’s an old coffee shop that Dinah used to take him to when Ollie was in one of his moods. It’s been done up now, some quirky little spot that sells keto cupcakes and chia cups with berry compote, but the coffee still tastes good and Dinah can usually secure the best table next to the wall at the back no matter how busy it gets.

She’s there now. Lian is sitting at the counter and watching the people who come up to order, and Roy hesitates before he goes to sit on the stool opposite Dinah, who’s flicking through some trashy gossip mag with one hand and absentmindedly stirring her extra large coffee with the other.

Her eyes pause on some fashion editorial of a dress Roy could have sworn Dinah owned about ten years ago, and she harrumphs at it before slapping the magazine closed and pulls her coffee in front of her.

Something clatters to the floor behind Roy and he turns, disappointed but not surprised to see Lian has disappeared again. What does shock him, however, is who walks through the door next.

It’s raining outside, heavy droplets and cold and probably not going to let up for hours. A girl makes her way to the counter and orders something, waving at someone who pops out from the kitchen, and then makes her way right to their table, pulling her hood down as she goes. Roy manages to squeeze out of the way just as she sits down, and Dinah sends her a warm smile.

“Mia, glad you could make it.” Dinah says, taking a sip of her coffee, and Mia battles with her rain jacket before shaking her head.

“I can’t believe Roy ever came here. This seems exactly like the kind of place he wouldn’t come within a two-mile radius of.” Mia says, finally resting her coat on the back of her chair, and Roy crosses his arms over his chest and chuckles.

“It wasn’t always like this. They’ve done it up.” Dinah says, and Mia nods.

“God, I miss that kid so much. And it’s so… It’s bad, I mean, we haven’t been in touch for a while and I think most of that is my fault but he was at the sanctuary to get better and-” Dinah takes in a deep breath and Mia sends her a sympathetic look, taking her hand and squeezing.

“No one deserves that. His life, he… Roy was always a fighter, you know. Always going through something but he… He was so good. He took everything and he fought through it and his heart, God, it was just one of the biggest hearts you’ve ever known, right? And it feels like my own has been punched out with him gone.” Dinah says, taking another long sip of coffee, and Mia nods.

“I know what you mean. Ollie said something similar the other night on patrol.” Mia explains, the two of them pausing their conversation as the barista brings Mia’s drink over to them, and Roy waits for them to continue.

“Did you ever find out what it was he was working on? Before he left for the sanctuary?” Mia asks, timid, and Dinah sends her a slow look under one perfectly arched brow.

“No. But I know someone who does.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Batwoman is kind of badass, all things considered. Lian says the same too, mainly by comment of her hair, but Roy thinks he gets it.

Jason is… Lacking, in badassery. Only at the current time, but if Roy’s honest with himself then there’s something that’s been lacking in the Red Hoods - hah - arsenal for a while. Roy would bet even longer than the beat down he got at the hands of Batman.

He’s angry, too. Unlike anything Roy has seen in a long time, lashing out and violent and making sure his hits hurt more than they absolutely have to, and Roy is itching to go down there and help out but he knows that’s not possible.

“He’s different. I can see him properly.” Lian comments, and it’s shit like that that used to terrify Roy when he first arrived here when she said it, but instead he just stares right at Jason and truly looks and thinks he gets it. He’s got a big angry shadow that follows him everywhere, trying to clutch at him but just missing the mark every time but a few steps. Death’s embrace can’t hold Jason even though it should, and the image is perplexing and sad but just… Jason.

Always defying everyone. Until he’s hit with a knife to the ribs while Batwoman takes on her own assailants.

Roy does what he’d always do, and follows Jason. He stumbles down the hill towards the outskirts of town, falls against a fading welcome sign and his blood is orange-hued under the weak lights overhead, grunting as he pulls his fingers away to inspect the wound.

Jason’s head snaps up, and something like acceptance washes over his features.

“Wait there for me, Harper.” He says, then pulls up a gun from behind his back and shoots right through Roy’s heart into the head of an idiot who followed Jason Todd down his path of destruction because he didn’t know any better.

Lian is stroking some wild hare behind the ears when Roy turns, and the look she’s giving him is haunting.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Did you love my mommy?” Lian asks, some days after Roy had left Jason for dead in some pinpoint town in the middle of nowhere, and he’s taken aback by the question despite expecting it for some time now.

“It’s… Complicated. But I love you, more than anything in the world, and I wouldn’t trade what happened with her or you for anything.” Roy says, watches as Lian’s little eyes search his face. She must be happy with what he has to say because she goes back to plaiting the woolen hair of some Cabbage Patch doll that looks like something out of the Coraline movie.

“Are you happy here?” She asks, still plaiting so her eyes can’t be seen, and Roy pauses.

“I-”

“Not with me. Are you happy here, in this place, stuck between your world and the world ahead, knowing that you have to stay here with me stuck like this?” Lian asks. Her voice sounds odd, another thing that happens sometimes, and Roy clears his throat.

“Where else would I be happy?” Roy asks, and Lian looks at him with a perplexed look as an image of Jason’s laughing face comes to mind, one of the only memories from his past life he’s managed to keep in searing clarity to go back to whenever he wants.

He supposes that’s an answer as any, and Lian takes his hand.

“You’re the best daddy I could ever want.” She says, and pulls him into a hug so she squeezes his neck and pats the back of his head at the same time, and Roy is crying hot tears before he even realises what’s happening.

The last thing he remembers, as he’s wiping those tears away, is Lian smiling at him with that same toothless grin, her uneven pigtails, and dressed in green.

  
  
  
  


 

 

He’s cold when he wakes up, this time. Cold and disoriented.

He’s naked and his chest aches and his throat is dry and burning from underuse and it’s dark, and Roy knows better than to panic but he’s heard all the grisly stories from Jason about being buried alive and he’s not keen on having an experience like that of his own.

He breathes deep, once, twice, thinking of a plan and he jumps when something at his feet clicks and light floods the dark space and he’s being rolled out and Bruce goddamn Wayne is standing over him, a stern face and bloodshot eyes but real.

“Arsenal. Welcome back to the land of the living.” Bruce says, stands back to give him space, and Roy hears movement around him as his senses start to come back to him and he sits, and he’s in a morgue, and Wally is rubbing his eyes on the gurney next to him and Booster Gold is in the corner looking like shit but the feeling of relief is coming off in waves.

There’s about fifteen of them all up, heroes who went to find sanctuary but died instead but were able to come back alive, and all Roy wonders is how he’s going to wait for Jason now that he’s  _ back _ .

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It takes time to convince him it’s real, but then Jason throws down the gun and grunts past his stab wound and throws himself into Roy’s arms, kissing him sloppily on the mouth and dragging him into the safe house with him, pressing him against a wall and mouthing at his neck and cheek and hairline and Roy can’t get enough of his hands on him.

They’re panting by the time Jason pulls himself away, rests his forehead against Roy’s and closes his eyes and brings a hesitant hand up to Roy’s chest to feel a heartbeat that is well and truly there.

There’s questions to be had. Answers to give. But for now Roy just stands plastered against Jason’s wall and Jason’s chest, running his hand through his hair and promising that for real this time, he won’t get himself into any shit.

There’s a cat that’s sitting outside on the balcony, the same colour as the one at Connor and Kyle’s place, and Roy smiles - knows Lian is probably sitting in the room somewhere, holding death off the two of them just a little longer. His own little guardian angel.


End file.
